Saturday at the park, Shaya dropped a glass water bottle that we’d just bought to replace the dingy old plastic ones. Thinking we were so smart to get hardy glass rather than metal or plastic, we never considered the possibility of one crashing to the ground.
No one got hurt. The glass shattered and the water poured out but the shards were contained to one spot. No blood. One bottle gone. “That’s $25 down the drain,” I joked.
Within the same five minutes, as I stepped out of the car, I scraped my leg on the corner of the car door. Moving too fast? In a rush? Focusing on the manmade frustrations as opposed to the sifting breeze and the call of birds and the perfect trees dancing above the lake?
I could focus on these isolated moments.
Or I could focus on the miracle of growth all around me, of plants growing beneath the water’s surface and on the land beside the lake. I could focus on the penetrating sunlight and the perfect blue sky.
I could focus on my family of six paddling through clear waters and the breeze cooling us just enough to encircle the lake.
I could focus on the daring my little Shaya exhibited when he vowed to never go down a water slide and then eagerly climbed the steps to the winding slide with his older brother and took the plunge down it, emerging at the bottom with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. “That was awesome!” he exclaimed, racing back up the stairs to go again.
I could focus on the way my girls discovered seaweed in the sand-bottomed lake and spent an hour diving down to grab it rather than screaming “Gross!” and pouting on the beach. (Hey – they’re almost teenagers – it is a real possibility!)
Broken glass. Who cares?
There is so much that is wonderful in life that there isn’t time to focus on the negative.